


Illusion and Alteration

by baratron



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Magical cock, Oral Sex, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baratron/pseuds/baratron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alix de Feu, the great-great-something-nephew of the legendary hero of Oblivion, is a student mage at the College of Winterhold in 4E 201. He's also a stealth transsexual. Never having met anyone else who feels the same way, he's spent years augmenting his family's natural Destruction abilities with other magical arts: Alteration magic to change his body shape, and Illusion magic to hide his differences. <i>Normally</i>, this works...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusion and Alteration

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger warning:** This story features a method for “fixing” gender dysphoria that is not possible in real life because we don't have magic. Also there are a few points in the story where the trans* character is upset and triggered, which is hard to show without potentially upsetting and triggering readers. If any of this is likely to bother you, get someone you trust to read the story first.

I hadn't meant to lie to Onmund. It just sort of happened.

Let me explain. After I returned his amulet to him, he said “Thank you, friend. It's good to know I can count on you.” Then he put his hands on his hips, and winked. And I realised, somewhat belatedly, that there was more to his estrangement with his family than simply him being a Nord who wanted to learn magic. The way he looked at me then showed that he was _also_ a Nord who preferred men. 

I hadn't learned much about Nordic culture since coming to Skyrim, as I'd been mostly holed up in the College, but I had noticed one thing. While it was perfectly acceptable for big, rugged warriors to rub down each other's muscles in their tents between battles, it wasn't quite so acceptable for gentle, scholarly mages to, uh, massage each other's heads in their College dormitories between books. Something like that, anyway. Being a mage _and_ a lover of men was about as acceptable in mainstream Skyrim as being a lover of sheep back in High Rock. Poor Onmund! He didn't deserve that kind of abuse. 

And he was a cute boy. Very kind and gentle, if somewhat chiseled in the typical Nord manner. Big hands – and you know what they say about men with big hands. Not sex on legs, but not bad looking either, and I was curious to see what he looked like underneath his robes. If he was suggesting what I thought he was suggesting...

Well, there's no privacy in the College of Winterhold – unless you happen to be the Arch-Mage, or risk going down to The Midden. Even the teachers in the Hall of Countenance have barely any more privacy than us students. So I suggested that we went down to the village and paid for a room in the inn. No one in the village cares for us mages, but they need money the same as anyone else – more so, because Winterhold's in the middle of nowhere. People only come here to visit the College or because they get lost in a blizzard. The Jarl rants about mages, but there's nothing else in the hold save ice wraiths and trolls. It's too cold even to farm.

We grabbed our winter cloaks – and a bottle of oil – and walked down the hill. I wasn't expecting any problems. See, I was given a gender-neutral name, Alix, after my great-great-something-uncle, who was apparently one of the people who sorted out the Oblivion Crisis. Not that you'd know it with the Thalmor around, they claim that _they_ solved it, the bastards. From what I've heard within the family, it was actually Emperor Martin Septim who sealed the barriers to Oblivion with the blood of gods and kings. But that's not a popular viewpoint, especially in Skyrim, so I keep my mouth shut here. Still, every generation of my family has a few Alixes or Alices in honour of our hero, and a few Martins or Martinas. I was _so_ lucky that my parents went for Alix even though I was... you know. Born a girl. 

And I'm lucky enough to be a Breton. Even the most masculine of my male relatives seem femme compared to an average Nord, so the gender cues are different for us. I miss my long hair, but once I cut it, no one doubted my identity as a man. Neither are people in the least surprised that I'm still beardless in my early 20s – though that might be a problem when I get older. Those hated lumps on my chest never grew all that big to start with. And I've spent several years in the study of Illusion and Alteration magics, purely and simply for my own satisfaction. Trying to get the body I want, most of the time.

I know – it's horribly self-indulgent. My however-many-greats-uncle saved the world, and here am I “wasting my magical talent on”, as my grandmother put it, “pretending to be a boy”. It's all right for _her_. She has the right body to start with. _I_ got shafted by the gods. I don't know if I pissed off one of the Nine in a past life before getting recycled in the Dreamsleeve, or if it's Lord Sheogorath's idea to drive me insane. I just know that I came out wrong, and I had the choice of killing myself or using my own magicka to reshape me. If I wanted to get myself killed, I could go and join this stupid war they're having here in Skyrim, but I don't see the point. Self-indulgent though it is, I can't be the _only_ person made wrong like this. And... if I could find a way to fix it permanently, I could help... however many people that is. Yeah.

So back to Onmund. There we were, in the rented room. A decent-sized double bed. And I hadn't told him. About me. Because, well... he was a nice boy, and a Nord, and I didn't want him freaking out before we'd... you know. See, I _look_ totally normal. My Illusion and Alteration skills are _that_ good. Those... bumps on my chest make very good pecs. Hairless, of course, but I'm a Breton so it's hardly surprising. As for the other, well, I have a device made of carved ivory which curves in shape and goes inside... the part I shouldn't have. Ugh, I know I'm sounding needlessly coy, but it's difficult to talk about this stuff. I've never met anyone else who feels this way about their body. I can say the word “vagina” perfectly fine if I'm talking about someone else, someone who's _meant_ to have one. I'm not. I'm supposed to have a cock and balls, and I still don't understand why I need magic to make them.

I'd attached my device under my clothes, and we were kissing on the bed. Neither of us were very experienced, and we kept bumping noses and foreheads by mistake, but we were learning. Both of us figuring out what the other person liked. I was lying on top of him since I was smaller, and I could feel his thick Nord cock pressing against my own. He was panting, clearly turned on. 

“What do you want?” I asked.

He blushed a deep red, and looked away. Vaguely indicating his crotch, he muttered, “I want you to... I mean, if you don't mind?” _That_ was helpful. 

“You want me to go down on you?”

He nodded. I grinned, excited at the chance of seeing my first naked Nord.

I started to undo his robes, hurriedly but carefully. I knew how they fastened, given that I wore identical College robes myself, and didn't want to get the straps tangled. Eventually, I'd unwrapped enough layers to leave him lying on the bed with his cock exposed. I was still fully dressed. 

My gods. It was huge. Everything I'd ever heard about Nord men seemed true. Well, if you _could_ extrapolate from one man to the entire race... I was pretty sure that you couldn't, really. But there it was – a gift from the Nine in pale pink skin sprouting from a thatch of surprisingly-dark brown hair. I started salivating just to see it. 

He looked anxious. “Is it... okay?” 

“More than okay, Onmund. It's amazing.”

I kissed him one more time on the mouth, before diverting my attention downwards. I'd dreamt of cocks like this, but dreams are one thing and reality's different. I didn't really know how I could get it all in my mouth, so I started licking the head while wrapping my hands (yes, _both_ hands) around the shaft. I jerked him off the way _I_ liked to jerk off, while tonguing and sucking his head. He groaned gratifyingly, as his cock leaked clear fluid into my mouth, and he directed my hands with his own. He'd obviously given a blow job before, because he was actively _trying_ not to grab my head and force it down, or ram himself too deeply down my throat. One time he did thrust too hard, my eyes watered and I started coughing, and he pulled out with an apology before I could choke. Would choking to death on the most impressive cock I'd ever seen be a good or a bad way to die? I wasn't sure. 

I lay between his legs, watching his face, gently massaging his balls as I licked along his slit. I could tell when he got close because he started gasping for breath while his cock stuttered arhythmically. Then I used my teeth along the rough underside where his silken head joined the shaft, and his eyes rolled back with pleasure. He grabbed fistfuls of my hair, still trying not to force my head down even as he desperately wanted to, and his accent became stronger as he muttered words of encouragement to me. When he came, he screamed my name, releasing what felt like gallons of come. I tried to swallow it all, but couldn't, and ended up pulling off to let him cover his own belly. 

Now it was my turn to blush. “Sorry,” I whispered. “There was too much.”

“It's okay. It's okay, Alix. I've... never come quite that much before.” He blinked, appearing suddenly very young and quite embarrassed. I couldn't believe that was the best blow job he'd ever received, but maybe... he fancied me more than his previous lovers? That was almost frightening. I didn't want to let him down with the truth.

I handed him a towel, unsure whether I was supposed to clean him up or let him clean himself. I was happy, and horny, and wondering if I'd get the opportunity to come myself. I knew what I wanted to do, but not whether he'd let me. 

Once he was dry, he reached for me. “I should return the favour,” he said, touching my cock through my robes. Of course, it felt normal – my Alteration magic gathered flesh around my device while I used Illusion magic to hide the straps. But I knew the spells weren't perfect. I could build a cock that felt normal or tasted normal, but not both at once. Even the best Illusion spell only works on one sense at a time, and it would take more control than I had to create something which would stand up to close inspection. 

I flinched as he started to undo my robes, and pushed him away. “No,” I said. 

“No?” He was confused. “You don't want me to...?”

“I... I... I'm shy,” I stammered, knowing it to be at best half-truth. “I'm afraid you wouldn't want me if you saw me naked.”

“But why? You're beautiful. Well, your face and neck and hands are beautiful, and you feel ordinary enough through your clothes. No horrible deformity or anything?”

I flushed even deeper red. “Turn around for me. I... I... I... want to come in your arse.”

“Oh!” His eyes searched my face as he realised why exactly I'd brought the bottle of oil, then he smirked. “If it will help you, then certainly.”

He stripped himself completely naked, and arranged himself on the bed with his arse in the air. I tipped a little of the oil onto my fingers, and reached for him tentatively. “Have you done this before?” I asked, suddenly afraid.

“Once or twice.” He smiled. “And my partner was someone rather bigger than a Breton, so I think I'll be okay.”

I'm sure most boys would be horribly offended to have their cock called small, but frankly, I was still too glad to _have_ one in the first place. Besides, we Bretons _are_ small. The top of my head barely came up to his shoulder when we stood next to each other. Height differences matter less when lying down.

I circled his hole with my oily fingers and discovered that Onmund wasn't exaggerating, he definitely _had_ done this before. As I massaged around the outside, his tight ring of muscle opened up. When I plunged a finger inside, he groaned, first in pain, then in pleasure. “I like that,” he told me. 

I didn't want to hurt him. I wasn't certain what I was doing. I probably prepared him for longer than he needed. But his walls fitted my fingers so snugly that I had to keep going. The heat made my nipples stand on end, made me wet between the legs. I silently cast an Alteration spell that channelled the fluid through my cock instead. I was far too conscious of where the magical flesh ended and my own began. 

Finally, I thought he was ready, so I oiled my cock. Onmund twisted round and kissed me on the lips, probing my mouth with his tongue. “Take me,” he said, seductively. I nodded, and entered him slowly. 

The feeling! By the Nine, I could barely stand it. That incredible heat was almost enough to undo me on the spot. His passage gripped my cock so strongly I felt it might pull it off. I found myself reinforcing the spells, chanting them over again in my head. Gradually, he adjusted to my girth – or I adjusted to his, I'm not sure – and I found myself able to move. I slowly slid deeper inside him, aware of how the ivory erection rubbed against my own, tiny, living erection. Each time I pushed in, I felt that grind of pleasure; every time I pulled out, a sensation of loss. I knew then why other men preferred a regular rhythm when they thrust inside my mouth. 

I wasn't sure what sort of joy Onmund was getting from this, though his fine Nordic cock was already hard again. I leaned into him and pinched his nipples, tweaking them as he moaned. I cupped his balls in my hands, then started to jerk him off, timing the movements of my hands to coincide with the thrusts of my cock. He groaned, and yelled, making enough noise that I was glad we were in a rented room in an inn full of strangers, rather than trying to hide our sounds with a Silence spell somewhere in the College. “Alix... I can't stand it...” he huffed, horny and needy again. “Too much... gonna come.” And with that, he did, spilling his seed over my fingers. There wasn't as much as before, but I was frankly amazed that there was _any_. 

As he came, his arsehole tightened, making it suddenly much harder for me to slide in and out. His muscles clung to my cock, and I felt even more as though he might simply pull it off. And then I was coming, waves of pleasure starting at my prostate and radiating outwards. Another Alteration spell, and I managed to channel most of my ejaculate through my cock so it felt like a normal guy coming inside him. I still had some of his fluids in my hand, and as I pulled out, I flicked his own come onto his arse. He'd assume it was mine. I... hated that I had to conceal myself like this, but I was sure that he'd never have wanted to let me fuck him if... he'd known. He liked men, and I didn't think I was manly enough to count.

Fortunately, Onmund was still recovering, so it was easy to turn my back to him and clean up. Still maintaining the illusion that I was a perfectly ordinary guy, just shy, I rearranged my device in my robes, tucking it against myself so as to resemble a cock at rest. By the time I'd finished, Onmund was awake enough to want a cuddle, and I happily said “Yes”. Who wouldn't, when their bed partner was 6 foot of hunky Nord with muscles sculpted from rock, and the brain of a sensitive, intelligent mage?

It was then that I made my fatal mistake. Wrapped in his strong arms, with him spooned around me, I fell asleep. As you know, while some spells have a long duration, it's impossible to renew them while unconscious. The room was paid for, there was no reason for us to be out any earlier than the morning. I suppose he decided to simply stay there in the warm rather than wake me up and trudge back up the hill to the College in the bitter snow. Unfortunately for me...

I woke up to the sound of someone clearing his throat. The sun was streaming in through the thin curtains. I found that at some point in the night, snuggled into his warm embrace, I'd thrown off my robes. Enough to expose... Yeah. Still half-asleep, I stared at myself, and then up into Onmund's face. 

“You're a girl,” he whispered. I couldn't tell from his expression if he was horrified, or merely confused. 

“I'm not,” I replied. “I'm a guy. _Honestly_.”

“You don't look like a guy.” Confusion. He was definitely confused. Was he angry as well? I didn't know.

I looked into his eyes, and then down to the reality of my body – something I tried to avoid because of its deficiencies. And then, to my horror, I burst into tears. _Well done, Alix, you're really going to convince him of your masculinity now_. 

Onmund patted me on the shoulder, awkwardly. “Tell me,” he said.

I found myself blurting out the whole tale – how I knew I should be a boy from an early age, how I'd never felt the same as my sisters, how I'd hated wearing dresses or skirts because they told the world that I was a girl, and how I'd been convinced that at puberty my voice would break and my shoulders would widen. Instead my monthly bleeding had started, and my _hips_ widened, and those lumps on my chest grew, and my mother had said, “You're old enough to get pregnant now.” How I'd vomited at the thought, and felt so trapped in my skin that I'd taken to cutting myself with knives, wanting to release the pain. Until my sisters dragged me to our parents, and I eventually admitted to my family what was wrong - and we realised that magic could save my life. “So I learned how to change my body shape with Alteration magic, and hide my differences with Illusion spells. But they only work when I'm awake to cast them.”

Onmund was staring at me. “Last night, you had the parts of a man. I felt your balls slap against me as you fucked my arse. _That_ was magic?”

I closed my eyes, too emotionally exhausted to wait for the rejection. “Yes.”

“But that's amazing! You must be one of the most powerful mages in the College if you're able to change your own sex!” Why did he sound excited? Enthusiastic, even? He was supposed to be throwing me out and never speaking to me again.

“I suppose.” Unenthusiastically. Unconvinced.

“Show me.”

“Show you!” I pulled my robes around myself in horror. “Onmund, I can't. Please! This is... the most personal and private thing about me.” Tears were running down my face again, I couldn't seem to stop them. “I don't do this in front of people, I think I'd throw up if anyone saw me naked before the magic's in place. I can barely let people see me naked _with_ the magic.” I was shuddering violently.

 _Now_ Onmund looked horrified. He stretched out his arms as if he wanted to hug me, but settled for patting me on the arm. “I... I _think_ I understand. Sort of. It's hard to understand. But I didn't want to upset you. I just wanted to see the magic.” He hung his head. “I always want to see powerful spells.” 

“The spells aren't private, but my body _is_. I have to stay clothed. Does that make sense? Maybe one day I'll know you well enough that I won't mind showing you, but right now I can't.”

He nodded. “I'm sorry. I truly didn't intend any offense.”

I turned my back to him, needing the extra privacy. When spells are vocalised, they are accompanied by magical light, and I was afraid that highlighting each part of me would negate the idea of being covered up. I cast the Alteration spell that reshaped the soft mounds on my chest into hard masculine pecs, saying the words out loud as I changed the fat into muscle. I cast the Illusion of hairiness, making my arms and legs appear more manly. I rearranged my device into an erection, before hiding the straps with Illusion magic. Then I gathered the strongest Alteration spell I knew, taking unneeded bulk from my hips and buttocks, and shaping it into a cock and balls. I couldn't make an erection from nothing because ordinary flesh wouldn't stand upright, but the carved ivory provided enough support to layer it onto. 

“Wow.” Onmund's eyes were very wide. “You do all that every day? And still have enough magicka left over for everything else?”

“I've been practising a long time.” I blushed. “To be fair, I only make an erection if there's someone to show it to.” A little afraid, trembling slightly, I twitched the edge of my robe open to let him see. 

Onmund stretched a hand towards me, smiling reassuringly as I flinched away. “Let me touch you, Alix. Please.” I didn't want to let him, but his reaction was already so unlike what I'd expected that I simply couldn't stop him either.

His hand touched the tip of my cock, and he gasped with surprise. He stroked along the head, marvelling at the soft skin there, then down the shaft. His fingers dug into a vein, and my cock throbbed in response. “Talos! It feels real! I'd never have known...”

“You would,” I told him. “It doesn't smell right, or taste right. The hair on my balls is an illusion.”

“Still...” He shook his head, and whistled. “I was right the first time. You _are_ beautiful.”

Frustrated, I snarled, “Aren't you supposed to be calling me an abomination about now?” Surely the longer I waited, the worse the rejection would be?

“Why would I do that? You're the most powerful mage I've ever met. And it must have been difficult for you growing up. We have a lot in common.” He glanced away, before meeting my eyes once more. “ _And_ you gave me the best fuck of my life last night. Let me go down on you.”

I started to hyperventilate. “I already told you, it doesn't smell right, or taste right...”

“Yes, I heard. Would you enjoy it?”

“Um, probably?” My face couldn't get any hotter. “I don't know, I've never dared let anyone give me a blow job.”

“Never? Then it's time you did.” He smirked as he parted my legs and positioned himself between them. 

I didn't know what to expect from this side. I'd given enough blow jobs to have an idea of the mechanics, but I didn't know what it would feel like on me. The answer was... incredible. His mouth was almost as hot as his tight hole, but much wetter. He held my shaft in one big fist, stroking rapidly up and down as he tongued the head, before engulfing the whole thing with his mouth. He wasn't joking when he'd said that he'd had much bigger partners, since he easily sucked me down into his throat. It felt good but I wished... I wished it was possible to detach the tiny nub of erectile tissue that I'd been born with, and move it to the end of my cock. The warmth and the wetness felt amazing against my skin, but I wasn't going to come this way.

“Onmund?” I said. “This isn't working.”

“What do you need?” he asked. “More friction?”

“Maybe? Um... Do you mind rolling over?”

He changed position, a little clumsily, but it didn't matter on the big bed. His head hit the pillow next to mine, and he leaned over to kiss me. I tasted my own juices on his lips and tongue. Then I straddled his face, resting my arms on the mattress either side of his waist, amused as I realised that I was in the ideal position for sixty-nining. I pushed my robes out of the way, marginally embarrassed as I let him see more of myself than I had done so far. He opened his lips to me again, and this time I began to thrust into him as I had the previous night while fucking his arse. The magical cock slammed into my living erection over and over, hitting the nerves just where I needed it. I was glad that he'd grown up blowing Nords so I wasn't going to choke him. 

Onmund rolled his head to the side slightly. “Do you need anything else?” he asked, out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Maybe a finger in my arse?” The oil was on the bedside table, and I could just about reach it. In an attempt to avoid a lubrication-related disaster, I poured some directly onto his hand, and recapped the bottle. 

His fingers traced my hole – oh gods, I'd forgotten how big they were! - gently relaxing the muscle, before his fingertip pushed in. That was the extra stimulation I needed, his finger pressing against the base of my cock, and I came so suddenly that I didn't time to channel my fluids into a manly ejaculation. Onmund didn't mind. He laughed as my come ran out between my legs, soaking his hand – then apologised for laughing, in case it offended me. 

I wasn't offended. I was just glad that he still wanted to make love to me even though I was... different. 

“You're right, you don't taste the same. But it's not unpleasant. And the best thing is, you're still hard!”

“Hard, but tired. What time is it?”

“I don't know.” Onmund peered out of the window. “Um, the sun looks quite high in the sky? Must be getting on for 10?”

“Shit!” I grabbed the towel from last night, wiping myself up. “I'm supposed to be at class soon.” I put my underpants and outer layers on as hurriedly as I could, while Onmund lay on the bed watching me. Why wasn't _he_ in a hurry to go anywhere?

Just as I had finished getting ready and was about to leave, he called out to me. “Alix? Will you be my boyfriend?”

“WHAT?” I dropped my bag on the floor, spilling potions and scrolls everywhere. 

Onmund hastened to help me pick them up. Naked Onmund. Naked male Nord, with a huge erection bouncing between his legs. Damn him. Damn my class. 

“It's just that I don't normally have sex with the same guy three times in three different ways in one night unless I'm planning to keep him,” he said. Nakedly.

“You... really see me as a guy?” I asked.

“Of course I do, you idiot. A hot guy, a fantastic mage, and a good friend. Now go to your class. I'll see you back at the College later.”

I walked out of the room whistling, and ran back up the hill to my lesson. When Tolfdir shouted at me for my tardiness, I just grinned. A hot guy thought I was a hot guy. Nothing else in my life could possibly go wrong.

Of course, that was _before_ I found out about the dragons...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt in Skyrim Kink Meme, posted by anon on 2013-01-18 07:46:  
> " _In character creation, it's fairly easy to choose one gender or the other. Obviously, in real life, it's not that easy._
> 
> _I'd like to see something where either the PC or an NPC is trans* or genderqueer. It can have a pairing or not, plot or not - it can just be an introspective piece if A!A wants._
> 
>  _That's it. Please no noncon - other than that, I'd love to read whatever A!A comes up with!_ "
> 
>    
>  **Other Notes:**  
>  Alix says “By the Nine” rather than “Eight” even though he's not a Nord, because his family history means that he's very aware of the deity of Talos.
> 
> Alix describes himself as having a prostate because he knows that he has a part inside himself which is in the same sort of place as the prostate of a man who was born male, and produces orgasm when it's stimulated. He is, in fact, quite correct in this usage. In 2002, the Skene's gland was officially renamed the female prostate. 
> 
> Lovingly beta'ed by Rowan, who pointed out parts Problematic to Trans* People. If anything offensive remains, this is my fault and I can only apologise - while I know a lot of trans* people of all flavours, they don't agree on everything. Do comment if you enjoyed it, or if you think something should be changed. (Though bear in mind that Alix has never met any other transsexuals, so ideas such as "my genitals are male because I'm a man" would be beyond him).


End file.
